


Out With A Bang

by unorthodoxCreativity



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Apocalypse, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-25
Updated: 2011-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unorthodoxCreativity/pseuds/unorthodoxCreativity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it's the end of the world, sometimes you have to put other things on hold for the important things. After all, nobody wants to die a virgin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out With A Bang

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this during "rapture" so if I actually was going to die, I was going to leave a beautiful legacy of Stridercest behind me. Written in the middle of the night so keep that in mind.

It was the end of the world.

It was the end of the world and all Dave wanted was to curl up in his bed and pretend it wasn’t.

Pretend the meteors looming on the horizon were figments of his imagination, pretend this hellish game wasn’t like some fucked up modern-day Jumanji, pretend that everything was the same as it always was.

But what could he do but keep pressing on and scrambling to get his shit together before everything was destroyed in a rapture of fire from above? He didn’t have time to be a whiny bitch, he didn’t have time to be anything but the coolest, the suavest, the iciest teen staring down death with nothing but a derisive cock of the head and glint of dark shades.

Somehow that facade didn’t matter; Bro still somehow knew his internal failures. Somehow he just knew and he was suddenly there, out of nowhere, hand heavy on Dave’s shoulder and heedless of the nervous energy that leapt between them from the contact.

It was a good thing Bro spoke first, because Dave wasn’t sure he was capable of speech.

“We’ve got thirty minutes. Nothing else you can do right now but wait. C’mon.”

And then he was walking, converse slapping stickily on the hot roof on his way to the stairs.

It took Dave a moment to comprehend the action, but then he was following quickly, fumbling footfalls nowhere near as confident as his brother’s.

Their apartment was the first door after descending to the top floor, room 413. Dave just managed to catch the heavy wood from closing on him, the crooked metal 3 digging into his palm.

Bro’s shoes were already kicked off at the door. An oxymoron of terror and relief washed to the front of his mind: Bro needed his shoes, the world was going to end – but, if he didn’t think he needed his shoes, maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe they could just glide their way smoothly on through like they slid through life and come out the other end with a new crazy story to tell and a few gnarly scars the ladies would swoon over.

Aside from the shoes, there was no sign of his brother. Dave shrugged his way into the kitchen, nervous teenage energy needing something to do. Maybe there were chips or at the very least a half-empty pickle jar in the fridge.

He didn’t get far before the baritone voice of Bro caressed into his back like silk. “The fuck are you doing?”

Dave turned, eyebrows twitching at the man’s state of undress. Bare chest, bare feet, bare everything, in fact, save for the grey scuffed jeans and the ever-present pointed shades. He was leaned against the doorframe of Dave’s bedroom, relaxed, yet pronounced muscles still taut like an animal of prey. Dave couldn’t help the resentment that rose from the display and coated the back of his tongue with the sharp and bitter tang of bile. He knew Bro didn’t have the time to hit the gym much. Every one of those gorgeous muscles were the result of beating the crap out of his kid brother.

The smirk that curled Bro’s lips seemed proof that the elder Strider knew exactly what the other was thinking. “C’mere,” he intoned, jerking his head toward the room, as if Dave didn’t already understand which direction ‘here’ was. Dave shuffled forward, past his brother and into his (albeit messy) sanctuary. Bro followed close behind, the heat emanating from his bare chest sending delighted tingles down Dave’s spine.

He tried not to think about it. There was no time to dwell on sick fantasies anymore.

The door clicked behind them, and Dave found Bro’s arms circling his waist, hands pushing insistently underneath the hem of his shirt. Hot breath shot over his skin as Bro whispered into his ear closely.

“Can’t let my little bro go out a virgin.”

Oh.

Maybe there was time to dwell.

Fuck.

And suddenly it was like his shirt was made of the same fiery hellspawn that the meteors were smelted from, as fast as it was shucked from his scrawny form. It should have been shaming, the way Bro chuckled lowly against his neck, but somehow it only spurred him onward, turning and grabbing and dragging him to his unmade bed, desperate to touch all the places he never dared to.

Bro was all too willing to oblige him, pressing him to his mattress with hot, insistent kisses. It should have been alarming, the way Bro pinned him and teased his mouth open with an experienced tongue, but somehow it was just the same as a rooftop fight, aggression and concession of dominance to the one with fancier footwork.

If Dave had been clinging to any worry on the state of the world, it was gone like the jeans that were suddenly being torn carelessly from him by callused hands. The brief moment of pause from the land of tongues and passion left him panting, quivering mess, mind trying and failing and coming up short of understanding every time he tried to wrap his mind around it. Bro just had his tongue down his throat and he was definitely awake and not in some taboo wet dream because Bro’s nails were biting painfully into his thigh and oh holy shit now his boxers were gone and there was no way in hell he was going to hide this shamefully swollen erection.

Evidently he wasn’t going to be given any time to wonder, because in the next few moments it was hidden for him – in Bro’s mouth. A mewl ripped unbidden from his lips at the unexpected suction and damp warmth, hands threading desperately into the blades of hair at the back of Bro’s neck.

“Oh god, oh please, shit, fuck.” Every curse and plea fell on receptive ears, translating to expert swirls of the tongue and bobs pulling him impossibly deep. This was so lewd, so wrong, so utterly disgusting but the way Bro’s thumb traced even, gentle circles on his inner thigh was so blatantly intimate there had to be a shred of decency in the action. There had to be a source of a rapture here and now in the way Bro made eye contact, actually eye contact, over the rims of the sunglasses slipping unfazed down his nose. Red eyes, the same, mutant red eyes, and Dave whimpered again, needing so much more from Bro than he’d like to admit, feeling so deliciously vulnerable in this moment and he’d have it no other way.

“S-shit, I can’t…”

And his mouth was assaulted again, dick cooling rapidly as the saliva hit the air. But that was okay, that was more than okay because they were kissing, and Bro’s hands were everywhere, quick caresses he hadn’t known were possible from the man. He pressed closer, desperate for more contact, to be absorbed completely in the other’s perfection.

Dave’s heart thudded the frantic backbeat to the metallic hi-hat of Bro’s buckle as it was unfastened and cast away. It pounded away until it was all he could hear, a stark bass as the soundtrack to their illicit synergy. And then Bro was bare, and over him, placing deliberate kisses against the throbbing vein in his neck, soothing and claiming and riling all at once.

Tearing his eyes away now seemed impossible. The moment stretched onward, time meaningless and unbroken but for the possessive kisses-turned-biting and the feel of a solid member rubbed gently against his leg.

What was the wait for, why wasn’t he being ripped apart and abused in so many new ways yet? Dave ground upward against Bro in an impatient reminder, quivering with anticipation. There was no point in waiting, this was just torture, and it left him with a scream bottling up with no way out.

Bro got the message – when did he not – and repositioned, cock sliding over Dave’s own with a lazy thrust. All Dave wanted to do was thrash and moan and cry and fuck what happened to his cool? – extinct by meteor shower just like the dinosaurs – but Bro’s hands were still holding his shoulders down tightly, and he was at the other’s whim. He was used to this. He was used to this and frustrated to no end but at least it was familiar.

“Shhh.” It was almost mocking, the cruelly cool tone that whisked over his ear, honey on velvet. One hand lifted from his shoulder and reached between them, holding their lengths flushed together. A teasing rhythm of stroking up and down, fingering a little longer at the folds of foreskin, baring the leaking, reddish-purple head with a flick of Bro’s thumb that sent Dave’s back arching against his will, a squeal caught on a bitten tongue. He wouldn’t last long, he couldn’t last long at this rate, and fuck, Bro was still kissing that spot on his neck, sucking and bruising and marking as his. Arms looped around him closer, a hug to rival rigor mortis, nails biting deep enough to draw blood. He was just as eager to leave his mark, to leave proof with Bro that this had happened, that whatever happened after today, this wouldn’t be forgotten.

His hips ground out a weak reply to the pumping of Bro’s hand over them both, adding any and all extra friction in his power. Embarrassingly close, almost lost in the swirling haze of pleasure sensations, and then Bro was looking down at him, sunglasses still low on his nose. He had to know they were there, he had to know Dave could see his eyes, and here was the evidence as Dave felt his own shades plucked carefully from his face and tossed with the rest of his discarded clothing, and he never felt more naked than any other moment in his life.

Another moment stretched on forever, eye contact firm and leaving Dave completely breathless. This was perfection, this was heaven, true afterlife be damned.

Bro’s lids slid halfway shut as he leaned in and pressed achingly gentle lips to Dave’s, and he was gone, crying out a silent praise as his vision blurred and blanked with visions of god. The grunt from Bro as he milked him to completion swam just out of his reach. His whole body sagged, muscles limp and useless. Bro collapsed onto him soon after with a hushed swear, legs tangled with legs and mouth pressed against his hair.

He would lie like this forever, if he could. He would save this moment in a bottle and drag it out as often as possible.

But Bro was rolling away, redressing hastily, lighting a cigarette between slightly fumbling fingers, and Dave couldn’t help the crushing of his heart. He sat up, mouth a perfect poker line but eyes betraying his hurt without their UV-blocking shield to hide them.

Bro sent him an apologetic look before pushing his own shades up to mask himself. “Get dressed,” he murmured after taking a long drag.

“No time to waste. Time to kick this apocalypse into next week.”


End file.
